


Acceptance

by StrongerThanAnySword



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Becoming part of a family is a bitch, But it is all Caine has ever ever wanted, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:32:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6165872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrongerThanAnySword/pseuds/StrongerThanAnySword
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caine Wise thought his heart had hardened, scabbed over, that he no longer needed or even wanted a pack.  For a lone Splice, he puts a lot of effort into becoming a part of the family...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Head of House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catwalkninja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwalkninja/gifts).



> This is NOT an Omegaverse fic, but Caine is a Splice and does think in pack-structure terms. :)

Vassily Bolotnikov prided himself on being the head of the household, on being Russian, and on being in charge.  Caine saw it the moment they met (properly, everyone's feet firmly on the floor and everyone's eyes open).  Though the commanding part of him wanted to bare teeth, thrust chin up, and step too close--invade his personal space, make him uncomfortable--it only had one-third control at the time.  The other two thirds were  _this is Jupiter's family so don't you fucking mess this up_ and  _submit submit submit_ , a chant he had not heard in his head since before a searing pain and the loss of his wings.  Distracted by this fact, and with two-thirds his mind insisting, Caine allowed his head to duck just slightly as they shook hands.

 

If that had not won the clan patriarch over, his work ethic certainly had.  It took Vassily inside of a week to figure out that if he set the rule that Jupiter  _must_ still go on assignments and that she  _must not_ be distracted and that she  _must_ help finish the set houses on time before she could see Caine for the day, Caine would show up at the house--sometimes hours early, as if he had nowhere else to be--and just start  **doing** things.  Despite his appearance (wasteful tattoos and what was clearly body modification in the ear region), anyone who kept little Moltka out of trouble was already a godsend, but the fact that Mikka could lead him around as if he were on a leash was a definite plus, and he not only helped with her chores (uncertainly at first, then with more and more confidence) but found additional things to do around the house, fixing or cleaning or tidying.  At first, Vassily had bristled in anger when he heard of this, shooting Vladie a glare that warned of another beating as he threatened Caine's life over his behavior toward the young girl.  Jupiter immediately defended his honor, hastening to assure him that Caine was a good man, while Caine gaped at the head of the table, turning first white then red in his upset, all while Vladie begged off with promises that he kept a good eye on the man while the kids were in the house and Mikka yelled that Caine had never hurt either of them and what was the problem anyway.  Vassily silenced the table with a trademark yell and said he would accept their thoughts on Caine--for now--and though that sounded very foreboding indeed to Caine, Jupiter shot him a smile and turned back to her dinner, a soothing hand on his forearm.

 

So all in all, though Caine was still on probation he didn't understand for crimes he had yet to even think of committing, he reasoned that as long as he did not challenge Vassily--clearly the alpha here--and did not threaten anyone more than his appearance already did, he did not have to worry overmuch about the older male.

 

Which only left the rest of them.


	2. The Pup

Moltka was easy.

 

Caine was naturally wary of him to begin with.  Pups were so small and so fragile, and although Moltka definitely possessed the same stubborn strength as the rest of the family, Caine was scared to move too quickly or too rough, and harm him.  

 

He came closer than he would have liked on a few separate occasions.  

 

The first was some time into his relationship with Jupiter; perhaps two weeks in.  Jupiter had begged and pleaded with her cousin, and he had finally given in; there was some shuffling, and the downstairs area had a small section curtained off for her own private space.  She had moved down almost single-handedly before Caine had arrived, and once he was there it was quick work to carry her bed down the stairs.  Vassily warned that there was to be no funny business (with a stern look to Caine), but the whole family was still riding on the last currents of their wave of relief that Jupiter had come home after her disappearance at the clinic, and he (begrudgingly, and with Aleksa's firmest disapproval) gave his leave for Caine to stay there with her a few nights a week.  They had no idea that Caine snuck in most nights through the wall, snuggling into Jupiter's embrace and breathing deep as if to pull her very scent into his heart, and was out before anyone else had woken up every morning.

 

Well, they weren't supposed to.

 

Caine awoke to rustling in the darkness, and he immediately rolled out of bed, hovering back to protect Jupiter as much as possible, shielding her with his body.  He squinted around the room, checking for intruders in the darkness, gun from the bedside table already in his hand; he made sure all was clear before slowly inching his way to the door and flinging it open, barrel of the gun leveled at the intruder's head.

 

Well, a few feet above.

 

Caine looked down, blinking, at Moltka, who was also blinking, his eyes slowly growing wide.  Caine looked down and took in his own appearance: shirtless, holding a gun, black sleep pants, and his newly-restored wings spread out to block the view of Jupiter from sight.

 

"Wooooaaaahhhhhh," Moltka breathed, and Caine hastened to straighten up, put the gun into his back holster, huddle his wings close behind his back, straighten from his fighting stance and try to look relaxed.  "That's so cool!"

 

Caine saw the questions coming and he dropped swiftly to one knee, reaching out for Moltka's shoulder, beseeching.  "Please, please do not tell anyone else about this, okay?  It can be our secret.  Please."  And Caine thought Moltka would fuss or kick up a fit or any of a number of things, but instead he peeped around Caine at Jupiter's peacefully sleeping form.

 

"To make Jupiter happy?" he asked solemnly, and all Caine's hard edges melted as he sighed, sagging, head dropping down to his chest.

 

"Yes," he said, relieved.  "To make her happy.  It's the only thing I want, to stay here with her, and if it's not our secret I will have to go away."

 

"I won't tell," Moltka promised, an evil little grin slowly forming on his face.  "Will you walk me to school tomorrow?"  

 

And Caine, confused but relieved and grateful, agreed with all his heart, a bemused smile forming on his face as Moltka skipped away.  Caine stared after him for a moment, then shook his head and closed the door on the empty stairway before returning to the warmth and softness of Jupiter and sleep.  Whatever had just happened, it seemed that the littlest Bolotnikov had accepted him.


	3. The Beta

Tomorrow was what Moltka had asked for, and tomorrow was what he meant.  

 

When Caine showed up at the door that morning (having asked Jupiter what time he should "arrive" to pick Moltka up), the door opened to a weary-looking Irina and a shining-eyed little boy, and it was clear in a matter of seconds that a mighty argument had just been fought and won.  Vassily looked up from his breakfast as Irina ushered Caine into the house, standing.  He was shorter than Caine yet loomed over him with a familiar look, but today he did so in an entirely new way.

 

"Walk them to school and pick them up today," he commanded, a threat lurking under the words, but Caine knew enough to see that the man was also a little afraid--afraid to trust his son with him, afraid that Caine would not do a good job.  Caine's spine straightened to pull him rigidly upright and he nodded, making firm eye contact.  "Mikka is to walk with you.  Keep an eye on them."

 

"I will," he said, blinking in surprise and looking down at his now-heavier arm, where Moltka was clinging.  A smile tugged at his lips at how gleefully the pup grinned at him.  "Are you ready?"

 

Moltka nodded as Mikka came around the corner into the dining room, making a few last adjustments to her hair and weighed down with her backpack.  She visibly brightened when she saw Caine, and he offered a small smile in return (he was getting better at them, the smiles).

 

The walk to school was fairly uneventful.  Moltka and Mikka talked and bickered and argued the whole way, but by now Caine had come to suspect that these things did not indicate a lack of love or even a lack of function in the family; it was simply how they communicated.  He was mostly silent except when directly addressed, and the children did not give him any trouble whatsoever, heading straight to school.  This was fortunate; Caine would have gotten them lost, as he didn't know the way.

 

When they arrived, both Moltka and Mikka said their goodbyes (Moltka even hugged him briefly), and Mikka shot him one last smile over her shoulder and waved a little as they entered the school.  Caine let out a breath he had not known he was holding.  So far, so good.

 

 

 

Caine had never bothered hanging around the school, even that first day.  He had a soldier's patience, but he wasn't stupid enough to not understand what a man of his size in a hoodie and a jacket would look like, hanging around by the playground.  Instead, he amused himself in the alleys, the shops, and played a game or two of basketball on a public court with some wiry-looking youths.  Caine wondered why they were not in school, but shrugged mentally to himself.  Some things were still a mystery.  At 2:55, he raised his hands and smiled a little when a few of the adolescents groaned and grumbled.  "Maybe another time," he suggested, and he meant it; basketball was a very fun game to play, and it seemed he was all right at it.  For the next week, he walked the children to and from school every day, and every day he returned to play, always leaving sharply at 2:55.

 

Moltka and Mikka were always easy to locate, waiting for him by the steps just as they did every day, even though it was drizzling slightly.  Today, Mikka saw him first and waved, smiling and turning to Moltka to point Caine out.  Caine smiled from under the hood of his sweatshirt and stopped before them, ducking under the umbrella that Mikka raised so he could stand underneath.

 

"How was it?" he asked, voice slightly raised over the plopping of raindrops against their plastic ceiling.  Mikka snorted and shook her head.

 

"It was school," she said, sounding bored.  "It's always the same.  Boring."

 

"We talked about frogs and tadpoles and stuff!" Moltka retorted from under the hood of his rain jacket, looking up at her and never minding the drops that plopped onto his face as he glared in defense of amphibians.  "Frogs are cool."

 

Caine half-smiled and shook his head.  "That doesn't sound boring," he agreed.

 

"Boys are gross," Mikka said with a sigh, sliding off the railing she had been leaning on and walking ahead, clearly headed toward home.  Caine looked at Moltka.

 

"We'd better catch up," he suggested, holding out a hand.  Moltka had held his hand the whole way to school that first day, as well as the whole way back, and that hadn't changed in a week's worth of walking the children to school.  As soon as Moltka latched on, they were headed after Mikka, already half a block ahead.

 

Caine heard them first.  

 

A whistle, a jeer from the shadows.  Mikka stopped in her tracks and Caine began to walk faster, practically dragging Moltka along, heart beginning to pump faster, urging his muscles to move.  This could not be good.

 

There were five of them, emerging from the shadows, oozing onto the sidewalk like so many bad intentions.  They were big and slouched and all wore hoods against the rain, and Caine didn't understand some of what they were saying, but the way they were standing, the stink of alcohol and other loud scents, and the way that Mikka took a stammering step back meant he didn't have to.  Outside the family, the pack.  A threat.  Enemies.  His eyes narrowed.

 

He passed Mikka, shaking Moltka off his arm.  Moltka clung to her arm instead, eyes wide, clearly wanting to run but unwilling to leave his sister behind.  Caine took bold steps forward and stopped in front of them, putting Mikka behind his back, his broad shoulders shielding her and her brother from view.  The men laughed.

 

"Got ourselves a proper gentleman, here.  What are you supposed to be, the nanny?"  

 

Caine's eyes narrowed to slits.  His only movement was to reach up and push his hood down, exposing his slightly-too-sharp features to their gazes and to the rain.  His glare only intensified when he saw flickers of fear and uncertainty on their faces.   _Good._

 

"Caine," Mikka said, a slight whimper in her voice.  "Caine, let's go..."  The sound was like a stab to the heart and Caine grit his teeth when the men laughed again, grinning preaditorily.

 

"You're not going anywhere," one said, stocky and gruff.  "There's only one of you, asshole, and five of us."

 

"The odds are in my favor, then."  Caine's voice was rough with growls he struggled not to vocalize.  "Apologize to her, then get out of the way."

 

A slight ripple ran through their pack, and Caine grimaced, knowing they wouldn't back down.  "Apologize," he said again.

 

"The only apology we're giving her is that she's gonna see a murder first," a third one--a large, stringy male--said, shifting forward, catlike.  The rest of the pack took their own steps, an intimidation tactic that Caine saw through, but he heard twin whimpers from behind him and he took a few steps back himself, pushing Mikka and Moltka back and out of his way with his body.  Laughter again from the enemy pack, which Caine took pleasure in silencing when he stepped forward again, alone.

 

They fell on him all at once, like jackals or hyenas, pushing on this side and that, fists connecting with his gut and his jaw, rain falling into his eyes.  He ducked under the rest, sweeping four legs out from under two bodies, watching them hit the pavement.  A third was thrown against the brick building, his skull connecting with a crack as he slumped to the concrete.  Caine rolled into a crouch and tackled another, knocking him out with a solid punch, then reaching over to grab the man who was out cold and tossing him into one of the men surging to their feet.  He lay under his fellow, groaning, and the last man was on Caine's back, grappling for a hold on his throat, but Caine opened his mouth and sunk his teeth into his arm, growling.  A shout by Caine's ear, a struggle, and Caine let him go, bleeding and crying out as he held his arm.  Caine spat, stumbled to his feet, took a hit square in the mouth; whirling and baring his bloodied teeth, he snarled as he returned the hit and sent the assailant to the ground.  

 

Caine was surrounded by moaning and groaning forms, all prone on the wet concrete.

 

Caine shifted to check around himself again when Mikka and Moltka caught his eye, both white and staring at him.  The umbrella had long since fallen to the ground, collecting water.

 

"Are you all right?"  He shifted, moving forward, and the children staggered back a little but did not run.  Caine crouched.

 

"Are you okay?" he murmured, trying to be soft and gentle, trying to appear calm and safe to them.  Mikka's eyes were filling with tears, her hair damp and dark against her pale skin, and Moltka's cheeks were coloring slightly.  Caine gently reached out, opening his arms to them, palms up and open.

 

"Are you hur-"

 

Caine choked off and struggled to remain upright as Mikka crashed into him, arms wrapping around his neck, sniffling.  Moltka cheered and hugged his bicep, mouth going a million miles an hour.

 

"That was SO COOL you totally kicked their butts that was amazing did you really bite him are you bleeding are you hurt you really showed them Caine good job good job!"

 

Shocked by the onslaught of information--the sniffles in one ear and the crowing in the other, two bodies pressed into him, a small wetness on his shoulder and neck--he did all he could think to do; he wrapped his arms around Mikka and gave a gentle squeeze, smiling at Moltka.  

 

"I'm not too hurt," he advised, and Mikka gave a small nod while Moltka's eyes shone.  "I'm just glad you two are okay."  He gave another gentle squeeze and stood, Mikka shifting to stay in his arms, clearly still shaken.  Caine shot a glare over his shoulder.  Three men were struggling to get up, one cradled his arm, and the last was still out cold. 

 

Caine growled, and they all flinched and looked up.  He shifted to the side, turning slightly so that Moltka and Mikka could see them.

 

**"Apologize to them."**

 

Immediately stammering out apologies even as they stumbled backwards into the alley, the men were soon running full-tilt, half-dragging their knocked-out comrade.

 

 

 

When they arrived at the front door, Caine sighed.  Irina and Vassily were waiting; he knew that they were late, but Mikka and Moltka had clung to him the entire way, Mikka unwilling to go much faster than a shuffle-step, and he had not thought to push it.  She was still staying close, tucked under the arm he was using to hold the umbrella, but she hadn't cried for long and even smiled a little at Moltka's prattling now and then.  

 

"What happened?!"  Irina ran down the steps and wrapped her arms around Mikka, whose eyes were still red-rimmed, pulling her out of Caine's embrace, and he let her go, knowing he was about to get kicked out of the house for good.  His heart ached as he crossed the threshold for the last time, but he knew what it looked like, him showing up with them, a split lip and a bruised jaw and cheek prominent on his face, Mikka soaked and looking so small, Moltka as wound up as Caine had ever seen him.

 

"We ran into some trouble," Caine admitted, unhappily pulling out of Moltka's embrace, ignoring the boy's objections.  "Neither of them are hurt."

 

Irina and Vassily stared.  "What kind of trouble?!" the woman demanded, hugging her daughter closer and reaching out for Moltka, and Caine helplessly made eye contact with Vassily.  He saw a question there and nodded in explanation, and he saw turmoil take over there as the man shifted closer to his family, wrapping his arms around them.  

 

"There were some..."  Caine visibly struggled to find the words that he could use.  He wanted to call them  _enemies_ or something like that, but he knew that this was not a term most civilians or even non-Splices would use.

 

"There were bad guys!" Moltka cried out, unable to keep silent, catching everyone's attention.  "And Caine was like, pow, bam, whoosh, and then he made them say  _sorry_ and they  _did._ "

 

 

 

As Caine struggled to more accurately explain the events of the afternoon, he saw Vassily and Irina exchange looks many times, and Irina's hand over Mikka's grew entirely white with the strength of her grip on her daughter.  At the end of it, Vassily released all the breath he had been holding and fell against the back of his chair, scrubbing his eyes, while Irina's filled in a suspiciously familiar wetness.  Caine prepared for the worst, prepared to be tossed out into the damp, and wished for a moment that Jupiter was next to him; his heart hurt, ached at the thought of being sent away, and he realized that even though he would still see Jupiter (no force on or off the planet would stop that), he would  _miss_ the rest of them terribly.

 

A slight scraping sound as Irina's chair slid against the floor, and footsteps as she came around the table.  Caine's shoulders hunched, preparing for a blow that never came.

 

Instead, arms wrapped around him, as strong as an iron bad, and Irina was whispering  _Thank you thank you thank you_ in his ear and Vassily was sputtering slightly but was offering his thanks, and Caine's shocked eyes met Mikka's across the table and she gave him a weak and watery smile and it registered in Caine's brain that he was  _not_ being kicked out, not at all, and Moltka was asking Irina why she was crying.

 

The door opened and closed behind them and Jupiter's footsteps came down the hall.

 

"Hey everyone!  We're here and ready to go out to eat for Grandmother's birthday, so let's..."  Caine heard her stop and he twisted to look up at her as everyone else did the same.  She blinked at them, bewildered.

 

"What did I miss?"


	4. The Matriarch

Lyudmila Bolotnikov was not Jupiter's grandmother.

Strictly speaking, she was her great-aunt, but her son was the alpha and his children were her grandchildren, and everyone who was younger than Vladie called her Grandmother--sometimes, even the adults did, in the way adults sometimes did to make sure the children knew who was being discussed or addressed.

She scared Caine more than even Moltka did.

She was small, and frail, and even though she had a will of steel and eyes to match, Caine kept his distance.  She smelt of age and of hardships survived and he couldn't tell if she would crumble under his touch or run him through.  

Even so, as the matriarch, he knew he had better get into her good graces.  Only one was more important than Lyudmila, and frankly, Caine was  _not_ willing to approach her yet, so Lyudmila was logically next in line.

That didn't mean he was rushing into it.

As if sensing both his decision and his reluctance, she came to him one night.  Jupiter and her mother and aunt were late to finish their last job, and he was staring into the distance, a faint worry line between his eyebrows.  He had done everything he could around the house--washed, fixed, and generally tidied up--which left him to stare at the wall and try to convince himself that everything was fine.

He didn't notice the creaking of the rocking chair at first.

"You think of her often," her kindly voice suggested in a strangely-dancing accent that he still was not used to.

"Yes!"  Caine jumped about a mile as he spoke, looking around properly, surprised to see the elder woman sitting there, relaxing only slightly when he realized who it was.  "Yes, I do."

"Do you love her?"

Caine almost choked on his good intentions and did choke on his shock, coughing slightly, eyes watering.

Lyudmila laughed.

"I tease, my boy."  She grinned at him and laid her needlework in her lap.  "I can tell that you do, and that she loves you in return."

"Yes, ma'am."  Caine was  _blushing_.  Lyudmila tsk'd.

"No need for that, my boy.  I feel old enough as it is."  The pack's mother was smiling widely at him and leaning forward, propped up on the wooden arm of the chair.  "I am pleased she has found you.  You are a good boy."

Caine's ears perked up and he shifted in his chair, the praise bolstering him.

"What do you want from her?"

Caine paused, hesitant, feeling suddenly like he was standing on thin ice, hearing it splinter beneath him.   _I want pups, I want a family, I want a clan, I want a den, I want her to smile at me forever the way that she does, I want her heart, I want..._

"I want her," he said softly.  "Just her.  She is...everything to me.  I don't know how I lived before her.  I want to make her happy.  I want...you to like me," he added carefully.  "I want you all to like me, because I like her, and I don't want anything to mess up what we..."  He shrugged and ducked his head.

Lyudmila's eyes were sharp as she examined him.  "You are a smart boy.  A good boy."  She nodded and sat back, returning to her needlepoint.  "I think you are good for her.  I see she is good for you."  Caine peeked up to see her watching him.  "I like you," Lyudmila announced.  "I do like you."  She smiled, then, a self-satisfied smile which said that the matter was closed, and returned firmly to her needlepoint.

And Caine melted slowly, carefully, into the couch cushions, sagging in relief.  He suspected that that had been too easy, but for the moment, he didn't care.

Only one person was left: Aleksa Jones.

Jupiter's mother.


	5. The Mother

_Mothers cannot be lied to._

This was an unspoken truth, something that all people eventually came to understand.  Mothers have a sixth sense, a Knowing, and lies do not live for long in their ears.  Even Caine, who had never had a mother, could sense this universal truth about them.

So Caine had had a devil of a time figuring out how to approach her.

He had agonized over every word, tried to make it so that every syllable was perfect, practicing his speech again and again and again to himself.

But now, standing in front of Aleksa Jones, her eyes the same beautiful brown as Jupiter's but with none of the softness, he wished he had practiced more, or simply grabbed Jupiter and run, or a million other alternatives to the path he had chosen.  It had led him, after all, to standing before a pair of jasper-colored, granite-hard eyes, and for a moment he fantasized about being back in Titus Abrasax's holding cell.

 An arched eyebrow.

"What do you want?"

Her accent, that same gorgeous and delicately heavy accent from a land called Russia some hundreds of miles away, seemed harsh in his ears.  He winced, and swallowed, and took a deep breath, remaining on his feet even as Aleksa sat down on a stool.

"I wanted...to speak with you."  He paused, he waited, the silence stretching anxiously thin, and just before it snapped he blurted the rest.  "Jupiter.  About Jupiter.  I wanted to speak with you about--"

"What about her?"  Aleksa's voice cut through his as she slowly removed her ring, placed it in her lap, and reached for some hand lotion, opting to act as if Caine was beneath her notice, looking away.  That made things harder, and easier; Caine wasn't pinned to the ground by her gaze, but neither did he have her total and full attention.  He coughed softly to regain it, pleased when it worked; she did not look at him, but tilted her chin in his direction.

"I wanted to...let you know...how I...feel.  About her."  Each word came out like he had personally drug it from the heart of a supernova.  He shivered from the effort.

"I think I know already."  Aleksa was lathering the lotion into her skin, partially ignoring him again.  "I know just how you feel."  She sounded dismissive, scornful, implying things that cut Caine to the bone.  Implying that he didn't burn at the sight of her, that she wasn't the brightest star in his sky, that suddenly having a walkabout suit with oxygen after holding his breath in the vacuum of space was more important and more of a relief than every single time she looked at him and smiled.

"No!" Caine blurted.  He felt like he might be ill.  "No, I love--"

"You love her."  Aleksa looked up, her eyes sharp, sliding her ring back into place.  "Love will not save you.  It will not make all your roads smooth.  It will hurt you, or her, or both of you."

Caine lowered his eyes.

"I know you are a good boy," Aleksa said after a moment.  Caine's ears perked up slightly.  "Jupiter loves too easily, but even I can see you are a good boy.  Nino thinks so, too."

This was true, and Caine's heart warmed.  Nino, Jupiter's aunt, had been delighted to hear that Jupiter was dating, and she had been a huge support to the both of them as the rest of the family began to come around.  He had been fairly certain she liked him; now he felt confident in it.  He nodded eagerly; he thought he saw her shoulders soften just a little, an allowance that gave him a fierce and sudden hope.

"But that does not mean that the two of you will be happy."

Caine paused, feeling like he was standing at the edge of somewhere very high and windy.  He took a breath.

"I would kill them."

Aleksa looked up, sharply.  "What do you mean?"

His eyes were on hers, unwavering.  "I would kill them, or drag them to jail, or whatever it took to keep her safe.  I know...she told me..."  Aleksa's face creased in understanding, in remembered pain.  "I will always protect her.  I couldn't do anything else."

Aleksa watched him.

Caine took a deep breath and stood still, rigid, waiting for a moment before slowly lowering to his knees, his head level just below Aleksa's seated one.  He looked up into her eyes imploringly.

"She may choose someone else," Aleksa said after a moment, looking softened all the same.  He nodded.

"I know."  And the thought stabbed him through the heart, but he meant his words with all of his soul as he spoke them.  "If she did, and she was happy, I would understand."

A small light in Aleksa's eyes.

She reached over, slowly, and patted the couch cushion next to her stool.

"I first met Maximilian on the river, in the dead of winter," she said softly.  Her eyes misted over, but the light stayed.

Heart beginning to swell, Caine felt lit and warmed from within as he slowly shifted to sit on the couch.

"That idiot," Aleksa said fondly, sadly, "was standing on the ice and peering through a telescope."

"What was he looking at?" Caine murmured, soft and wondering at the tenuous truce stretching between them like spider's silk.  Aleksa's mouth twitched into a smile.

"The biggest and brightest of all the planets," she said, a note of wonder in her voice.

"Jupiter."


End file.
